Ever since I've discovered that I already have a sure school for my collegiate education, I've been tossing and turning on my bed, imagining what my sucky fat life would be in Mapua. And damn. No matter what I imagine, I would always look like a fat pig. That's either a sign that I will have no chance of slimming down, or a warning from God that I should stop having dry and quasi-academic fantasies.
Mapua is definitely a good school for my engineering dreams, I know. Dad took up Computer Engineering as well for his freshmen year there. When I told him the good news, he became ecstatic as hell. I don't know, he probably wants me to continue his terminated Mapuan education. As you all don't know, I'm the reason why he had to transfer to another school. Dad made love with mom..then ZING! Teenage pregnancy reveries fulfilled.
Blah-diddy-blah-blah, dad. You know very well that you have a conceited daughter. That's why she will be changing her course again to ECE.
I want a title. Badly, really. A hard-earned title. A fucking title that would shout out to the world when I finally graduate that I am, therefore, an engineer. Engr. Paragas. Engr. Paragas. ENGR. Damn that 5 characters. I've been doodling that tasty title with my last name on a size one of a paper for the last 3 days.
You people are all in trouble if I do not end up with my desired title. Knock on wood my ass.
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Odd, isn't it? I'm writing on a morning of a school day. And no, I did not skip school, for Christ's sake. I have the final paper of our IP and our data gathering for our god-forsaken thesis to deal with, dammit. As much as I would like to be killed by my seemingly baneful groupmates, I cannot leave them alone for some reasons surely NOT connected to kindness or whatsoever. Jesus. I have no heart to begin with anyway.
Today is actually the second day of our small holiday. It all started yesterday, really. They have some big time convention/seminar at school with imported caucasian speakers. They probably don't want us to interfere with their idealistic shits, and/or bother their award-winning moments with such foreign invaders. So to speak, they gave us a 3-day vacation. It's more of a 3-day escapade in hell, if you ask me. They bombarded us with tons of homeworks. Damn those obdurate creatures. It would probably kill them if we relax our minds or whatever.
My nose is surprisingly numb for pesky holidays. I can't smell that Yuletide shit again. Oh well, that's a handy excuse for me to not give gifts. Hurr-freaking-hay.
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I gotta go to school now. Not to study, but to help people design our classroom for the literary portal shit next week.
UGHHH.
Happy Thanksgiving to all ye immigrants.
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